New Camelot
by shamelessaf
Summary: Set briefly after Agartha but before Shimousa, another Sub-Category Singularity has been discovered, centering on Camelot, Britain. Faced with a mysterious new King by the name of Arthur II, Ritsuka is joined by Mordred to investigate this singularity. "If you had the chance to change your fate, would you?"
1. Welcome Back

The scent of primrose accompanied the gentle breeze. Even though it was far from my first rodeo, the dizziness of rayshifting always left me with a churning stomach.

"Senpai, are you alright?" From the holographic display, the monochrome blue image of a familiar face furrowed her eyebrows. I suppose the discomfort really showed on my face. "We should really start establishing the habit of bringing medicine for motion sickness when you Rayshift."

"What we need is to stop having these singularities appear, Mashu." I tried my best at a reassuring smile. "To start with, can you even transport pills with the coffin?" While it's understandable that she worries about me, I firmly believe that I'm old enough to be an independent, functional adult.

"Hmm… if it's da Vinci then…" Mashu's frowned. It looked like she was seriously considering this idea. "Mmm… In any case, just be careful, alright? While it's not your first time rayshifting without me by your side, you're not going to have some servant rescue you or stow away every time, you know?" Returning to her usual tone, Mashu sighed and stared at the readings on her screen, attempting to make sense of them.

She's right. I'm alone now. No gentleman criminal masterminds or cute paladins to save me this time. But if I'm careful then I should-

"Hey! Master! You alright?" From the distance, a distinctly female but masculine voice called out to me. Turning around, I see a figure in silver approaching me. "When I heard you're going to England this time, I thought I had to follow! Father might be here too, yeah?"

Of course. It _had_ to be her who followed.

"Mordred? Did you…" Once again furrowing her brows, she scowled and talked to someone outside the captured image. "Mr. Muniel, I thought the penalty from your bonus would've taught you something." A few off-screen murmurs later, Mashu sighed. "Eh? It's not you? But…da Vinci? Really? I'll go have a word with her." Clearing her throat, she turned to me. "It seems like I am required in da Vinci's workshop. Anyway, at least you have some protection now. Exploring your surroundings should now be easier with additional firepower. I'll leave you to it then, Senpai. I'll be right back, so don't worry about things on this end, okay?" With that, the transmission cut off, leaving only the sound of Mordred's footsteps and the ambient noises of the wind.

"Master, you alright? You look a bit ill, you wanna lay down or something?" Finally reaching my side, Mordred pouted as she stared at my face. "Can't go adventuring if you're unwell, you know. Better get some rest before we move on." She continued to stare intently, her emerald eyes threatening to bore a hole through me with that sharp gaze.

"I'm fine, I'm used to it anyway. It's more important that we figure out where we are. If we're nowhere near Camelot, it's going to be one hell of a hike." I suppose having Mordred on her home soil is a good thing, I never paid enough attention in Geography to work out which part of England we're in.

"Uh… I have to be frank with you, Master. Orienteering was never my forte. But if I had to guess, Camelot probably won't be far. I've seen these flowers around the castle when I was alive." Picking a primrose from the grass, Mordred played with it between her fingers as she admired the scenery.

"Hm, I'll trust you on that. Looks like there's a village or something nearby, feels like it's not a long walk. We can ask for directions and figure out our plan once we get there." Pointing to a distant spot of browns and reds among the vast green scenery, I turned to Mordred and waited for her approval.

"Yeah, that'll work. I'm sure things can't be that bad if a village is still standing, right? You stay at the back, Master. I'll be on the lookout for any wild beasts." Mordred hoisted her sword over her shoulder as she said this, puffing her chest out with her usual smile and started walking. As her Master, it is only natural for me to follow, making sure she protects me from any frontal assault.

Scenic walks were usually signs of shit hitting the fan when encountered in singularities. Septem, Orleans, Babylonia, Agartha, the list goes on. Compared to the familiar but bland corridors of Chaldea that never seemed to end though, walking in a field of grass dotted by red and white under the sunlight and the soft breeze was always a welcome change. But it was always the tension that got to me. A habitual cold sweat breaks out, the experience of past singularities leaving me on edge and bracing for any nasty surprises. Even at the slightest rustle of grass, my muscles tense up, ready to run. A good half hour of walking later, I finally manage to suppress my flight instincts, calming down and breathing evenly as I conversed with Mordred.

"…it was all da Vinci, ya know? She went and told me you were going to England this time, and not just the modern London type but the real, in the flesh Camelot, yeah? So when she came to me and said the singularity this time messed up Camelot proper and not just a transformed crusader state in Jerusalem, I figured I should come and help, for sure. Even though this place is full of bitter memories, it's still the place I've come to call home. And if anyone wants to mess that up I'm not going to have any of that." Snarling a bit at the end, she swung her sword in the air, trying to threaten the invisible enemy. She laughed, the crisp laughter traveling through the grassy plane. "Man, I really missed this place. Chaldea can get really stuffy sometimes and all this fresh air is just what I needed." She twirled, breathing in the air of the English countryside.

"I'm sure there could've been alternatives than just smuggling you here, but I'm glad you came." I smiled at the twirling knight, admiring the scenery as well as the sight of Mordred enjoying herself. "It's not often that I see you like this, Mordred. You're usually a very…aggressively wild person."

Hearing my remark, she stopped twirling and looked at me, smiling. "That's how bein' a knight is, Master. Ya gotta be mean and aggressive to protect the people who matter to ya, yeah? If you're soft and kind it ain't scarin' no one." She looked like she wanted to continue talking, but she stopped. The carefree smile on her face vanished, replaced by furrowed brows and the sharp gaze of a predator. Swinging her sword, she growled. "Stand back, something's coming." Like a superhero in a certain comic book, her helm snapped into place, encasing her head and ending in a satisfying _clunk._

Rumbling. In the distance, a growing horde of "something" approached. Based on Mordred's expression, these were no ordinary beasts. Looks like shit did hit the fan after all. The sound grew closer. Tusks, I see tusks. Demon boars? In England? No. Something must be wrong. Is this what's wrong with Camelot? A boar invasion? Can't be right, can it? Is it the Irish? All these questions became afterthoughts as the horde of beasts dawned upon us, the stench of these cursed creatures permeating the air, leaving no trace of the flowers' aroma. I gulped, taking a few steps backward and craning my neck to find possible hiding spots. Babylonia tells me these things have a penchant of dashing and rampaging, and that is not what I need in an open space.

"Fiends." Her voice laced with disgust. Saber stared down the wild animals, slowly walking towards them. One of them leapt at her, jaws agape and fangs bare. She sidestepped its attempt and impaled it to the ground without breaking her stride. Pulling her sword back out, she began to pick up her pace, running straight into the swarm.

"Drop dead!" Hacking. Slashing. A straight jab that punched through a skull. No matter how many times I witness it, Saber's ferocity in fights makes me wonder who the more feral one is between her and her enemies. Brutal as she is, the sheer number of rampaging boars seem to overwhelm her. As much as she tries to shrug off the occasional impact from a boar's tusks, she was beginning to tire out. Perhaps it was my ineptitude as a Master, but her strikes seemed slower, her slashes lighter. Amidst a field stained red, she stood still, panting. But they persisted. The circle of boars once again closed in on her, eyes filled with bloodlust.

This is bad. She needs to get out, we need to escape. I didn't think I'd need to do this, but here we are. I raised my right hand, the red command spells glowing. _With the power of this command spell, I command you, Saber-_

Sensing my intent, Saber looked at me. She raised her arm, wagging her index finger. "Don't give me that, Master." Her helmet retracted. She breathed in deep, and exhaled. "Don't waste that kind of magic just because a few pigs are making me work up a bit of a sweat." She grinned, baring her sharp canine, "After all, if little piggies are being naughty…" The helmet snapped back on. "…I'll huff…"

The one in front of her charged, aiming for her neck. She met it head on, quite literally. Headbutting the beast, she plunged her sword into its abdomen as it stumbled. "…and I'll puff…" Backhanding the boar that attacked her from behind, She swung her sword in an arc, butchering the few that came at her from the side. Clarent crackled with red lightning, scorching the nearby grass, "…and I'll blow your heads in!" The smell of burnt flesh spread through the air as she cleaved through the crowd, the boars dropping dead one after the other. Until finally with a last swipe, the sole remaining boar fell, guts spilling onto the no longer fresh grass.

She turns around, sword once again hoisted over shoulder. Her bangs were plastered to her face from the sweat, her breathing heavy and uneven. She smiled as she approached me. "Told you I didn't need that red tattoo. After all, you accepted my pledge to protect you, and I can't turn back on that promise, right?" Laughing, she collapsed against a tree, dropping her sword to one side and sat down. "That was one hell of a warm up. Master, let's just rest up here, I'm exhausted."

I nodded, still shocked by the brutal display she just put on. "Yeah, you've earned a good rest." I smiled as well, sitting down next to her. "That was…impressive, even for you. I don't think I've seen you go up against so many before." There was no patronizing. I was quite genuinely impressed. Even as a Saber, fighting so many rabid demon boars and coming out on top is no simple feat.

She closed her eyes, a somewhat forced laugh escaping her throat. "I've been through worse. More people, more blood, all in this land…" Perhaps recalling an unpleasant memory, she furrowed her eyebrows. But the troubled expression soon disappeared and her breathing slowed. Then, the sound of gentle snoring entered my ears.

Leaving her to nap in peace, I stood up, trying to ignore carcasses littered across the grass. Squinting my eyes, I attempt to gauge the distance to the village and look out for trouble in the process. With Mordred's fatigued state, we're going to be in deep trouble if anything jumps us. Seemingly clear for the miles to come, I breathed a sigh of relief. Then I turned around.

In the distance, from the direction we came, I see two silhouettes growing larger and larger. One purple, one blue.

Shit.


	2. Knight Night

The silhouettes grew larger by the second, although still well out of range for me to identify. Looking back and forth between the two figures and a napping Mordred, I grit my teeth. Disturbing someone's hard earned rest is the worst thing to do to anyone, but on the other hand I need the protection to hopefully not die. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, a blue holographic image of a girl popped into my sights.

"Senpai! I'm sorry for being late, I'm afraid I wasted too much time lecturing da Vinci! But more importantly, there are two people coming your way!" Fixing her glasses, Mashu went straight to the reporting without wasting any time, even though she was a bit late. "One servant and another non-servant but…hmm? It seems like the servant is…Lancer, Cú Chulainn? I can't get an accurate reading for the non-servant, but the signature's is very abnormal. Senpai, please watch out." Curtly bowing as she finished her report, she cleared her throat. "That's all the information I have right now, but please don't worry, I'll keep you updated on your surroundings as soon as they come up. Until then, please work hard, Senpai." With a smile, the hologram disappeared before I was able to chime in.

But that makes things simple. Someone in purple, accompanying Lancer. There can be only one.

Scáthach, the immortal warrior woman of Celtic mythology. A teacher of many great heroes who etched their names into stories and legends, including Lancer. With such a formidable figure approaching me, I gulped.

"It'll be fine, I've talked to her before, even though it's her from another singularity." Reassuring myself in my mind, I shook my head and took a deep breath, waving frantically at the duo.

"Excuse me! The two warriors who look very strong over there!" I yelled. Turning my head to confirm that Mordred wasn't waken by my shouting, I resumed waving.

The two figures in the distance rapidly closed their distance between us, seemingly in a sprint. Perhaps they heard me. Perhaps the field of gore attracted them. Perhaps it was both. Whichever the case, they were coming to my position. Finally within distance, they slowed down to a walking pace, waving back at me.

The first to speak was Scáthach. "Lass, you did this?" Pointing at the piles of scattered carcasses, she asked.

"Teacher, I don't think so. This one here might be from elsewhere, but she's no serva-" Midway through his sentence, a hand struck Lancer's neck and silenced him.

"Shush, I'm not talking to you." Scáthach glared at her pupil before turning back to me. "So, did you?"

"Me? No, I'm afraid I'm not the brawling type. What you see before you is the handiwork of my companion." I motioned towards the still napping Mordred. "You see, we were trying to find our way to Camelot before being attacked."

"I see. I apologize for my young student's insolence. Were he able to strike these boars, you would not have been attacked." She did a small bow before pressing Lancer's head down and forcing him into a bow as well. "You, apologize."

"O-ow! Fine, I-I'm sorry." Gritting his teeth, Lancer muttered.

Good. No violence yet.

"Please don't worry about it. But I'm surprised, this amount should be an easy job for a servant. Especially one so acquainted with hunting boars as you, Lancer." I cleared my throat. Here comes the important part.

"Oh? You know of the name Lancer?" Lancer stared, his ruby eyes expressing curiosity. "You're not a servant. Who are you?"

"I am a Master." I held up my right hand, the red command seals right where they're supposed to be. "As a member of the Organization for the Preservation of Human Order Chaldea, I am here to investigate the potential of a world-ending threat." Trying not to bite my name introducing Chaldea, I straightened my posture and tried my best to look professional.

"Master, huh…" He sighed. "You think there's something wrong here?"

"That's what I'm here to find out."

"Is that why you want to find Camelot?" Scáthach chimed in.

"Yes. Evidence suggest Camelot is the epicenter of this… problem." Would they understand the concept of singularities and demon pillars?

"Perfect. We're planning to go to Camelot as well. Need a hand?" Lancer smiled.

"Eh?"

"Indeed. As you say, my pupil is a servant who has manifested because of this…grail. He has been adamant on finding out why he has been summoned and followed rumors of the king to here, away from the Isle of Skye. As a good teacher, it would be unbecoming of me if I did not supervise him." Scathach scoffed as she finished her sentence, as if she herself found her words unbelievable.

As I opened my mouth to accept Lancer's proposal, the clanking of metal entered my ears.

"…Master. Please slowly step back." Mordred's voice rang out. "Blue, you're a servant too, aren't you?"

"Saber, stand down. They're not enemies." I raised my hand.

"You don't know that." She snarled.

"You want to get to Camelot right? We're your best bet." Lancer chuckled, readying his spear. "But if you want to fight, I don't mind."

"Saber, no fighting. We need all the help we can get."

"Remember Agartha?"

"Saber, you weren't there. It's different."

"We can find our way there alone. It's not worth taking this risk."

"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer." I sighed. "Saber, now is not the time. You'd trust your guts too, right?"

She tutted. "Fine."

"Then it's settled. Lancer, Ms. Scáthach, we will gladly join you." I smiled. This is good. We're lucky to meet friendly servants. With an honest person like Cú, I'll have at least one servant who won't betray me on my side. Probably.

"Good! We can make a stop at the next village and find someplace to rest. You guys must be famished right?" Lancer lowered his spear, grinning. "I'd hunt you a boar, but…" Looking back at the dismembered beasts, he laughed. "…Probably not happening, right?"

The sun had begun to set as we approached the village, the worked patches of fields already void of life. Peering into the not so distant manor, Lancer spoke.

"Hey, you think the lord of the manor will let us in? I mean, it's not like we have money or any game to exchange for our stay." He pouted, rubbing the crescent amulet that hung around his neck as we walked. "I could really use a nice tankard of ale or whatever."

The response to his question came in the form of swift smack to the back of his head. "Fool. We don't have to let them know of our presence. If that doesn't work, then there's nothing a good fight can't solve." Scáthach frowned at her disciple, crossing her arms.

"It'll be fine. I'd like to see them turn down a request by a Knight of the Round Table." Mordred cracked her knuckle and exhaled. "Judging by how peaceful things are, that…probably hasn't happened yet. Which means I still hold my position as one of 'his' exalted knights." Perhaps not wanting to dwell on the mention of her King, she cleared her throat and continued. "In any case, leave it to me. I'm your servant after all, right Master?" Turning to me, she smiled, her chest puffed up and gleaming with confidence.

"Y-yeah, of course." I smiled back, resisting the urge to pat her head. "Thanks Mordred. You're a great help, as usual."

"I know, right?" She chuckled. "Alright, show time." It seems like we've closed in on the manor before we realized it. Her helmet snapping back into place, she hoisted her sword above her shoulders and walked towards the door alone. "You guys stay here." She ordered, her voice now stern and commanding. Quite the knight, she is.

"Open up!" Knocking on the manor's door, Mordred yelled. "Or do you dare to defy the orders of the King's Knight?" She planted the sword into the ground, her harsh voice echoing through the empty plains.

Muffled, rushed footsteps came from within the house, and the door swung open. Behind it was a middle-aged man dressed in a plain cloth tunic and tightly clutching a small pouch in his hands. "P…Please, the other knights has already taken most of what this village has three days ago. I…If you must, take this." He offered his pouch to Mordred, his hand visibly shaking. "It's all I have left. Please."

Cocking her head, Mordred swatted his hand away. "The other knights? What do you mean the other knights?" She looked back at me, trying to convey confusion through her helmet.

"Y…you're from the King's Court, right? Sir Gareth's Knights came by three days ago, to collect the tax. They've taken everything this village has. Please, Sir Knight, mercy!" the man fell to his knees, his face twisted and driven to tears.

Mordred tutted. "I'm not here for the tax. The King…has found…people of great wisdom… from another land. I am escorting them to Camelot, and merely need a place to rest." She peered inside the house. "If you have any beds, I will be borrowing them for tonight."

The man looked up at her, wiping his tears with the tunic. "O-Of course! Please, come inside. We were just ready to start our meal. Perhaps Sir Knight and his guests would like to join us?" He gingerly stood up, patting the dust from his knees and walked inside.

Mordred looked back at us, beckoning us to join her. "Gareth too… How far back was this?" She muttered under her breath as I walked up to her.

"Hmm? What about this Gareth character?" Bested by curiosity, I asked. "You know this person?"

"…Yeah." Silence filled the air. "You probably don't know much, Master… Since I rarely talk about my other family members. But you know I have siblings right? Gareth was one of them. He died when…that happened." She sighed, stopping again. "I wouldn't mind seeing him again, but his survival only means that we've definitely traveled back before that. At least before the pervert got exposed." She shook her head. "Well, none of that matters right now. I'll be keeping my helmet on for security reasons, but you guys feel free to eat some food the lord of the manor provides."

Walking into the house, the middle aged man and a woman came to greet us. "I see. These must be the King's guests. Please, do make yourself comfortable. As a celebration to the King, we have prepared bacon and cheese alongside our meal." With a slight bow, they retreated back into the kitchen area, leaving us to our own devices.

Idle waiting is the worst. Lancer and Scathach are making small talk by the doorway, chattering in Gaelic. Mordred stood still next to me, arms crossed and her face unreadable thanks to the helmet. I sigh and lean back on the wall, massaging my grumbling stomach as the aroma of bacon entered my nose. After travelling for so long without a single bite, there was no ending to my stomach's complaining. In fact, it was complaining so much it felt like even the wall I was resting on was grumbling.

Wait.

I closed my eyes and ignored the unbearable hunger. It wasn't my imagination. The walls are shaking rhythmically, like a… like a march. Glancing next to me, Mordred already had her hand on her sword. "Stay still. I'll go." Before I could protest, she already left, walking out the door to investigate. The Irish duo also followed suite, twirling their spears as they headed out. Peering out the window, I was joined by couple preparing food, witnessing the steadily growing wave of silver approaching us.

"T…they're here." Once again, the middle aged man was on his knees, clutching his head with both hands and breathing heavily. "That…That is the army of Sir Gareth." An audible gulp was heard in the silent room. "Th-They're not here for us, right?" He turned to me, eyes wide. "Right?"

I shook my head, grit my teeth and got my shit together. Leaving the trembling man to be consoled by his wife, I walked outside. Seeing me, Mordred groaned through her helmet. "Oi, I told ya to stay inside!"

"I thought you might want to know this tidbit before fighting." I pouted as I walked towards her. "According to the man inside, that's Gareth and his troops. Are you sure you're ready?"

Mordred stayed silent. Finally, she exhaled. "Even if I'm not, I have to. No matter what happens here, I'll be the one to cause his death anyway. I guess…I'll try to talk to him." Sheathing her sword, she stood her ground.

The small army closed in, led by a figure in black. Spotting us, they stopped. The black figure walked forward and waved his banner. A crimson banner with a golden lion. "I am Sir Gareth, sworn knight of the Immortal King Arthur! Criminals! Give up yourselves and let us apprehend you peacefully!"

"Hold up, that guy… Whoever he is, he's not my brother. Gareth doesn't wear black. I'll talk, stay put." Motioning me to stay still, Mordred shouted. "Gareth! It's your brother, Mordred! I'm sure there's some kind of misunderstanding! Tell your lads to stand down, we can talk!" Holding her hands up, she took a few steps towards them.

"Halt! The traitor Mordred has been slain by our Eternally Glorious King on the fateful hills of Camlann! Not only are you an imposter, but you take on the image of a traitor! Cease resistance, and you and your confederates will be brought in without violence! If you refuse, you will taste the wrath of the King!" Gareth waved his banner again, and the knights took a step forward, swords raised and shield ready.

Mordred tutted. "Father survived Camlann…? Is that what's wrong here?" She unsheathed her sword and took her stance. "Whatever, I'll figure out later. We'll just have to fight it out for now." Turning to the Irish duo, Mordred asked. "Blue! How good are you with hunting people?"

Lancer groaned. "My name's Cú Chulainn, not Blue. It's not terribly hard for you English folk to pronounce, is it?" Readying his spear, he smiled. "Well, I've been itching for a fight anyway."

"So be it." Gareth raised the banner and marched forward, followed by his troops. Slowly, the march turned into a jog, the knights picking up speed despite their heavy armor. Now in fighting distance, Gareth's figure became clear. Instead of wearing black, he was surrounded by a writhing shadow. Shit, he's a shadow servant. Camelot is definitely at the center of this.

Besides me, Scathach chuckled, arms crossed and looking at her disciple. "This will be good combat assessment. Let's see if he can reach fifty – no, a hundred."

I stared hard at the crowd, unsure there are that many knights but also afraid to correct the fearsome warrior. In any case, the battle has already begun.

Surrounded by the heavily armored knights, the two vigorous warriors were remarkably undaunted even as their opponents stand several heads taller than them. Lancer casually stepped to the right as a sword struck where he had stood a moment before, flanking the knight and puncturing his armor from the side in one clean flash of red. He spun around, evading another strike and impaling his spear into the head of the attacking knight. Although no less fierce than his ally, Lancer was less direct. He danced between the blades, skillfully dodging and striking back with Gae Bolg. Like a choreographed dancer, he moved swiftly and without hesitation, not at all bothered by the scratches and grazes from the knights' large swords.

On the other hand, Saber confronted the enemy with her habitual brutality. The knights attacked, only to have their ranks broken by Saber's advances. One dull crunch after another, the knights fell, helmets cracked and armor crushed. The sickening sound of organs rupturing could be heard as they fought, the knights struggling to hold their ground as Saber fought back relentlessly. Slashing her way through, she finally reached Gareth.

"You. You're not my brother. Who are you?" Crushing a knight's under her foot, Saber pointed her sword at the shadow servant, snarling.

"You're wrong. I am Gareth, brought back to servitude after my slaying at the hands of Lancelot by the Great King Arthur. If you are indeed my brother Mordred, then you will understand what it feels to be given a second chance at life." Gareth armed himself, longsword in hand. "I am forever in debt to the King, and I will obey his every order to pay back this debt." Tightening his grip, he walked towards Saber.

"That's as far as you'll go, Sir Gareth. Return to the grave, or I shall have to kill you once again." A voice rang out behind the knight, a voice belonging to a figure clad in dusky, purple armor. "I, Lancelot du Lac, will not allow you to take another life."


End file.
